


Hide and Seek

by PrisLit



Category: Girls (TV)
Genre: Birthday Girl, Dominant Sackler, F/M, Hide and Seek, One Night Stand, Recovering Alcoholic, he's such a train wreck, slow burn in reverse, smut that turned into fluff, some smut, strangers in a bar, weird conversation over noodles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 20:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18225146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrisLit/pseuds/PrisLit
Summary: When Ana met Adam in a noisy club on her birthday, she wanted nothing more than to get as far away from him as possible.  By the end of the night, however, she wants noting more than to pull him closer. Adam, haunted by demons he cannot seem to face, is the one compelled to run away.





	Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helloimindelaware](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloimindelaware/gifts).



> I wrote this story for my Sackler-adoring friend Ana for her birthday.
> 
> All aboard the pain train to nowhere!!

She deserved this, Ana reminded herself as she applied the lipgloss she’d borrowed from her roommate. She had been working so hard, and taking classes too, and what little free time she had, she dedicated to her political party and her social work.

On her birthday, of all days, she deserved this.

Her older brother had called her about possibly going to a football game, but she asked for a rain check. It was sweet of him. She wasn’t as close to her siblings as she’d like to be, but they loved each other, and tried to do things for and with each other when they could. They could go to a game when she didn’t have plans. He understood, they discussed a day the following weekend, and she ended the call and put her mobile on the sink beside her.

She had barely taken her fingers off of the phone when it chimed to alert her to a text message.

Luci  
 _Don’t forget your ID and a clean pair of panties._

Ana  
 _Gross, Luci. WTF?_

Luci  
 _Bitch please. Don’t be such a fucking prude. You’re going to get laid tonight, if it’s the last thing we do. Consider it my birthday present to you._

Ana  
 _No, Luci. I told you, I’m not ready. I’m not over him. I’m in a shit mood and I just want to drink and enjoy being with you assholes._

Luci  
 _Knock it off. You’re getting some dick tonight._

Ana  
 _I hate you._

Luci  
 _Love you too. See you at 8._

Ana took the train to the station, only a city block and a half from the club she was to meet her friends at. She was wearing a close-fitting maroon-colored dress with pretty silver accents. Everyone told her she looked amazing in it. Guys always hit on her when she wore it. Why the fuck did she wear it?

The last thing she wanted tonight was attention from the opposite sex. The thought of him still stuck in the back of her mind like a bad taste, and just like a bad taste, when she thought of him, she twisted her mouth into a grimace. She’s been right to break up with him. She had told him after his first fuck-up he had one more chance.

That had been three chances ago.

Her fight-or-flight momentarily attempted to kick in and she nearly turned tail to wait on the train going the opposite direction back home. But she took a deep breath, remembered her friends, remembered it was her birthday, and willed her mind to forget him. Just for tonight.

The night was miraculously balmy for early March, and the walk to the club was enjoyable. The streets in this part of town were always filled on the weekends, people both sober and drunk walking to and from the various pubs and clubs, waiting for Ubers, trying to remember which train they needed to take.

By the time she made it to the club, her other three friends were waiting. Together, they always felt invincible, and their long nights together usually ended with someone leaving with a guy they’d met (although this had never happened to Ana), so drunk they had to be carried home, or pleading their case to a police offering (although that had only happened the once).

After hugs and kisses and birthday wishes had been given and exchanged, they entered the club, the throbbing and pulsing music overwhelming them. Lights strobed and threw their bright colors against the walls, the multiple mirrored balls hanging from the ceiling breaking the beams into a thousand shards that cascaded and swirled.

What looked to Ana like a million people were on the dance floor, seemingly moving as one to the deep bass and thudding beat of the music. She and her friends made their way to the bar and after a short wait ordered drinks from the handsome bartender. Luci started flirting with him the second she saw him, and Ana rolled her eyes.

‘You want to be here.’ She kept telling herself. She closed her eyes, just for a second. ‘Your friends are here, you’re going to drink and dance and have fun and…’

Something or someone bumped into her then, and the unexpected impact knocked her aside and into the edge of the bar.

“Sorry! Sorry.” the asshole who knocked into her said, reminding her WHY exactly she hated coming out to crowded places. He didn’t even stop to check if she was ok before hollering for the bartender's attention. She turned to curse at him, and barely caught a glimpse before her friend Nina handed her possibly the largest, most colorful, most alcohol laden drink she’d ever had.

“For the birthday girl!” She yelled, yet Ana could still barely hear her over the thud of the bass. Nina grabbed her by the hand and led her to the dance floor where she and her friends danced, drank, flirted, and put on the sexiest show they could manage for the guys in the club. It worked, of course, and by the time she was half way through her gigantic drink (granted, a quarter of it had probably sloshed onto the dance floor), Ana had been hit on and propositioned at least five times. And each one, she’d turned down in earnest.

With each line, each flirty comment, her mood dampened a bit more. The alcohol, which she had hoped would serve as an emotional painkiller, had betrayed her. Instead, it had brought the memories of him to the surface, each face on the dance floor reminding her of him in some way. The love of her life. How could he have broken her heart? Every promise he made played back in her head.

“Going for a smoke!” She yelled at Nina, and pantomimed smoking so her friend would understand, since voices were absorbed by the din of the music. Surrounded by three guys, and covered in a thin layer of perspiration as she gyrated against them, Nina was in her own world, and nodded absentmindedly. Ana rolled her eyes and navigated her way through the crush of dancers, and headed for the door that lead to the alley exit. It lead to the area where smokers and those feeling their liquor and needing air went to congregate (although usually alone).

When the cool night air hit her skin, Ana took a deep breath. She leaned up against the bricks of the wall next to the door, and took a cigarette and lighter out of her small bag. Cigarette held between her lips, she attempted to light it, but the breeze in the alley wasn’t cooperating, and she was about to give up when a flame appeared in front of her. She dipped her head towards it, lighting her cigarette, then followed the hands holding the lighter to its owner.

“You!” She said, and it came out a bit bitchier than she meant for it to.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” He said. “My date needed a refill and she doesn’t like to wait so…”

Ana gave a half-hearted nod and turned away, not giving him another thought. But just when she’d nearly forgotten he was there, he opened his mouth again.

“That’s a beautiful dress.”

“What?” Ana retorted with a sigh, that grimace on her face again. Out of every guy in the bar, she was stuck out here in the empty alley with the most repulsive one.

“Your dress.” He repeated, as if he were actually too dense to get that she wanted to be left alone. He motioned towards her with his cigarette. “It’s really pretty. On you.” He stopped then, and their eyes met. He took another drag, never dropping his gaze.

“That your best line?” She asked. She was now purposefully trying to be a bitch, hoping it would just make him go away.

“Not a line.” He answered simply. “Just like your fucking dress, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?” She exclaimed, but without giving him a chance to reply, continued. “Didn’t you say you were here with someone? Maybe you should go find her.”

“Can’t. She left with some guy.” He said, but so matter-of-factly that Ana was convinced he wasn’t really bothered by it. Or maybe really used to it. It took her back slightly. She was going to sarcastically say ‘can’t imagine why’ in order to keep up her bitchy facade, but what came out instead was:

“That was shitty.”

She mentally facepalmed.

“It’s whatever.” He said, and took another drag. “What’s your story?”

“Story?” She asked, and took a puff of her own cigarette, then held it between her lips as she checked her phone for texts from her friends. When he didn’t answer after a moment, she looked up at him, and was surprised to see him staring at her like what she was doing was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. She wanted to dismiss him, throw him into the heap with every other guy that had looked at her like that on the dance floor, but something…

“Your story.” He repeated, interrupting her train of thought, his deep voice softer this time as he watched her with dark eyes. She felt pinned against the wall by him, although he was six feet away. “What’s a nice girl like you doing it a shithole like this?”

“I, uh…” she started, but her head and her mouth were having an argument, one not wanting to encourage this weirdo, the other curious to find out just how far the rabbit hole went. Curiosity killed the cat, and also won the argument. “It’s my birthday.” She told him, and even managed not to sound like a bitch when she said it. “My friends met me here for a girl’s night.”

“Holy shit, happy birthday. What’re you, 21? 22?” He didn’t look at her when he said it, instead flicking his cigarette butt down the dark alley, where it spewed tiny red embers when it hit the pavement.

“28.” She chuffed. She wasn’t falling for that bullshit.

“And the accent?” He asked. He was looking at her again, dead in her eyes, unafraid and unapologetic, like he’d known her for years. It pissed her off, scared her, and turned her on all at the same time.

“I’m from Argentina originally.” She replied. Each word came out as if it had to break free from her lips, as her brain desperately tried to keep her from saying too much. “It’s in South America.”

He laughed at that.

“I know where Argentina is.” He replied, and for reasons she didn’t understand, she felt color rise to her cheeks. “What the fuck are you doing in this sorry excuse for a country?”

“My family moved here a few years ago.”

She was going to continue, but he seemed satisfied with her answer and moved on.

“I hear chicks from South America are crazy in bed.” He said then, and she nearly choked on her last puff of cigarette smoke, almost giving herself whiplash as she turned to glare at him.

“What the fuck is THAT supposed to mean?”

Genuinely surprised by her reaction, he shrugged, digging another cigarette out of his pack.

“I dunno.” He replied, pausing to light his smoke. “You tell me.”

Speechless for probably the first time in her life, and so angry she temporarily forgot English, Ana was translating her reply in her head when the door swung open and a small group of tipsy club-goers filed out. Crowded out of his spot, cigarette guy moved to stand on Ana’s side of the door.

She was trying to decide whether to continue with the response she was planning or just punch him in the face when she realized he was so tall, the second option was not viable for her. She looked up at him, so mad she was flushed, her hands trembling as she attempted another hit of her smoke, but found it burnt down and finished. She threw it at the wall across from them.

He extended his hand and offered her a cigarette from his open pack. She took one, and he lit it for her.

“You’re shaking.” He said as he noticed her trembling fingers holding her cigarette. “You cold?”

She didn’t have a chance to answer before he’d pulled off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. Both incensed that he had completely forgotten and moved on from his insulting remark, and flattered he had so gentlemanly offered her his jacket, Ana stood, silent and mad and turned on and very, very confused. She didn’t even know his name.

“Adam.” He said, and for a second, she became concerned that the infuriatingly awful yet attractive man next to her might be able to read her thoughts. No. If that were the case, he wouldn’t still be talking to her. Unless he was into being cursed at and having his ass kicked by small women. He stuck out his hand. Why? Why the fuck did she do that?

“Ana.” She said, and put her hand in his. It disappeared when his fingers closed around it. Everything about him was huge. She considered that thought and a blush rose to her cheeks as she fought not to allow her eyes to move to his crotch.

“Nice to meet you, kid.” He replied, and put his back against the wall beside her. They remained silent for a moment while the other club patrons laughed and chatted drunkenly. A few more people came out and the smoking area started to get crowded. Ana and Adam found themselves being pushed further and further down the wall until they were almost at the corner of the alley and the intersecting street.

Adam turned his head and bent his body to the side to glance around the corner.

“You hungry?” He asked, turning back to face Ana. She hadn’t really considered it, but she had eaten dinner early, and now that the drink she had earlier was wearing off, he stomach growled a bit at the thought of food. She shrugged.

“I could eat.”

“There’s a place down this street that has awesome fucking noodles. Wanna go?”

And thought about it for a moment and pulled out her phone. She group texted her friends that she was going to go to get food with a guy she met, named Adam. On second thought, as a precaution, she opened her camera app. She raised her phone to take a photo of Adam.

“Tha’ fuck are you doing?” He asked, his voice high and suspicious. She lowered her phone momentarily.

“I’m a single woman about to leave a club with a guy I’ve known for 15 minutes. I’m taking a picture of you to send to my friends so if I I disa-fucking-peer, they’ll know who kidnapped and/or murdered me.”

He was silent for a moment and then nodded his head, allowing her to take the picture as he tossed his latest spent cigarette butt to the ground.

He started around the corner. “Come on.” He motioned her with his shoulder to follow him, so she did.

He was right. The noodles were awesome. And the company, although weird, was growing on her.

Ana listened, an amused half-grin on her face as Adam talked. He spoke so quickly he would sometimes forget to take a breath. It was as if he hadn’t had anyone to talk to for years, and he had to get everything he wanted to say out as quickly as possible, for fear that Ana might disappear.

He rarely finished a thought, jumping from one tangent to another, as if his mouth couldn’t keep up with his brain. When he talked about things he was passionate about, however - acting, woodworking (that one surprised her), and the screenplay he was writing, he was well spoken bordering on brilliant.

When he told her about his struggle with sobriety, she was surprised.

“Why would you go to a club that serves alcohol?” She asked, taking a sip of Thai tea through a plastic straw. He shrugged, which seemed to be his reply for a lot of things.

“Can’t believe I let her talk me into that either. Can’t believe she ditched me.” He paused, toying with a stray noodle in his bowl. “Yes I fucking can.”

“If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met me.” Ana replied, and to her surprise, he smiled.

“Good point, kid.” He replied. “You gonna finish that?” He pointed at her noodle bowl. She shook her head, and he slid the bowl over and finished it off.

“So what now?” He asked, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Now I go home, take a shower, and get into bed. I have work in the morning.”

He stared at her for a moment. That look again — the one that made her feel both hunted and wanted. After a few seconds, the shrug, and he turned his head to watch the traffic on the street.

“Let me walk you home.”

She laughed.

“You can’t walk me home. I take the train.”

“Ok, then let me ride with you.”

She shook her head. If nothing, he was persistent.

“You’re going to ride all the way to Clinton?”

“Sure. Why not? I live in Prospect Heights. You’re just what, one stop up?”

“You’re not coming home with me.”

“Who the fuck said I wanted to come home with you?”

“Fine.” She had to admit, his reaction had wounded her a bit.

“Fine.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Adam rose from the table. He threw a wad of crumpled bills down. Ana thought he was going to head for the door, when he leaned down next to her, one hand behind her, one hand on the table in front of her, pinning her in the booth. His face was inches from hers.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to take the train, and when we get to your stop, I’m going to walk you home. We’ll get to the door, you’ll act like you don’t want me to come in, I’ll kiss you goodbye, and you’ll go inside. It’ll be a good kiss, and you’ll think about that kiss, and regret not inviting me in.” He paused. “You’ll call my phone before I even make it back to the station.”

She hadn’t flinched whatsoever when he’d invaded her personal space, and she could tell that had thrown him off a bit.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” She replied, eyes narrowed.

Just as Ana had expected, he gave her the one-shoulder shrug, but this time, it was accompanied by what Ana could only describe as a knowing grin. He turned without another word, and headed for the door.

“You’re really fucking full of yourself, you know that?” She called after him. “I’ve never met anyone so completely full of shit.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that.” He answered. He pushed open the glass door. “Doubt it will be the last.”

Ana sat, twisting her straw paper, calculating the risks (she was aware there were many). She knew she should let him go. She sideway-glanced towards the door. He was still standing there, waiting, like he expected her to jump up and run after him. What an asshole. She wished he would walk through the restaurant door and keep right on going -- down the street, onto the subway, out of her reach. She didn’t want this (did she?). She certainly didn’t need this. A rebound relationship? Rookie move. It would take her all night to count the reasons that was a horrible idea.

She glanced at the reflection again. What the fuck? He was still standing there.

When she met him at the door, he stuck the crook of his arm out in invitation. Against her better judgement (that seemed to be the theme of the night), Ana threaded her own arm through it.

——-

  
The entire train ride to Ana’s exit had been a debate between them on the finer points of 90s moviemaking. Although they had quickly settled on Tarantino as mutual pick for best director, there had been some discourse as to which of his movies was the best. Ana stood firmly in the corner of Pulp Fiction, but Adam was unwilling to back down from Kill Bill (Ana did have to admit that his arguments, although a bit unorthodox, were compelling). By the time the train glided into the southernmost Clinton station, they had come to an agreement that further debate during an eventual Tarantino movie marathon would be the only way to resolve the dispute. This, of course, prompted an immediate argument regarding which movie would be the first they watched.

They were both surprised when they reached the steps leading to Ana’s apartment. Their conversation had kept them so focused on each other that time and distance had eluded them.

Ana stood on the step that was two above where Adam stood, which brought her almost perfectly eye-level with him. She looked at him, with his dark hair (he couldn’t seem to keep his hands out of it so it was perpetually mussed and tousled) and his pretty chestnut-colored eyes (half the time he couldn’t meet her gaze, and the other half, she felt as if he was attempting to bore into her soul). She had almost convinced herself he would be nothing more than a very fitting epilogue to the tragic story of her recent love life when he opened his mouth to speak (it was large and expressive, and it was easy to tell when he was anxious or frustrated, because he would do this… thing… with his lips, that both annoyed and captivated her).

“When you walked out into that alley, I was five seconds away from going back in to order a drink.” he said. His voice was quiet, and he looked at his feet when he spoke, as if he were a kid admitting a particularly bad deed. Ana watched him, but didn’t speak. He looked as if he had more to say.

“I stopped when I saw you.” he continued. He glanced up at her, maybe to see if he was still holding her attention, maybe to see what her reaction had been. “I don’t know why. I was so fucking mad, and then I saw you, and I just…. wasn’t anymore.”

He leaned in towards her a bit, more of a forward sway as he jammed his large hands in his pockets. She smiled at him.

“I’m proud of you.” she said, and his head popped up to look at her, his eyes narrowed a bit.

“For what?”

“Sobriety is hard as hell, Adam. One of the hardest things anyone can do. I know you struggle, probably every waking moment. I know that you probably constantly doubt yourself. Having that much self control all the time is utterly fucking exhausting. And I know that not having that drink tonight was hard. You almost failed. Almost. But you didn’t. And you deserve that victory, regardless.”

He stared at Ana like she had just enlightened him with the meaning of life. She supposed he hadn’t had a friend or significant other give his struggle with sobriety that kind of recognition lately, or possibly ever. From the looks of it, it had been a while since he had had any positive validation of any kind. She knew that feeling well.

“You could be so good for me.” he whispered. It was spoken so softly she barely heard it over the cars passing on the street behind them. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he took a step back, and the walls came flying back up. “Thanks for hanging out, kid. Maybe I’ll see you around.” he jumped backwards off the steps onto the sidewalk. He turned in her direction but didn’t look at her. “And Happy Birthday.”

“Hey!” she called, before he could take another step away from her. She knew if he didn’t, she’d likely never see him again. “We can start with Kill Bill if you want.”

Hands still jammed deep in his pockets, he turned his head and raised his eyes to peer at her. She shrugged slightly, and turned to ascend her stairs, purposefully dismissing him.

By the time her key slid into the lock, he had bounded up the stairs behind her.

“Cute place.” He said, looking around. She hated that word: cute, but she gave him a pass because despite her lack of appreciation for the word, her flat was in fact, very cute. Small and compact, as all apartments in her neighborhood were, she had worked hard to find the perfect furnishings to compliment her personality: a little bit traditional, but fun and quirky. Bright colors and patterns that reminded her of home lived in harmony with more modern pieces, giving the place an eclectic, bohemian feel.

“Does it bother you that you were so wrong?” Ana asked. She had gone into her bedroom to change out of her dress and heels, but left the door cracked so she could still talk to Adam.

“Wrong?” He retorted with a chuff. “Wrong about what?”

“Your little self-absorbed speech in the noodle place.” She said as she pulled her favorite soft T-shirt over her head. She’d already slipped a pair of pajama shorts on, her feet bare against the old wooden floors. “You told me quite definitively that I wasn’t going to let you in.”

She exited the bedroom and brushed by him into the kitchen. He watched her like a hawk, his eyes moving up and down her body as if he were trying to memorize every line, every curve. Again, she saw him do that thing with his mouth. She grinned as she turned away from him to turn on her tea kettle.

“Is that why you invited me up here?” he asked, his voice higher, louder. “Just to say ‘I told you so’?”

Ana turned, tin of tea in her hand, and completely ignored his question.

“Tea?” She asked sweetly. “I make my own blend. Organic matcha with toasted rice and peppermint.”

Not used to being dismissed, he faltered. He raised a finger to his mouth and worried at the cuticle, and shook his head. She smiled and turned back to the teapot.

“Get comfy. Take your coat off. The remote is on the coffee table. I’ll grab the dvds in a minute.”

After she was done making her tea, she went to the sofa and sat her mug on the coffee table. She sat quite close next to Adam, and pulled her left leg underneath her so that her knee was resting against his thigh. She was just about to push the button on the remote when he turned to look at her.

Time stood still for them both as each calculated their next move, their next words, their expectations for the night and from each other. He was glaring at her again with that look — hungry, lonely, longing.

She grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him towards her and kissed him, hard. Caught off guard, he tensed momentarily, but recovered almost as quickly. He took her face in one large hands and returned the kiss, his tongue invading the warmth of her mouth.

Unwilling to be bested, she lifted herself into his lap, straddling him, and snaked her arms around his shoulders, greedy. His eyes widened and she grinned at his shock. She had been right - he was all show -- full of big words and wild looks, but when it came down to it, he was far more bark than bite.

Before he could react, her mouth was on his again, devouring his ample lips, the pressure between their mouths so intense that she felt her own lips start to plump and numb. He moaned softly, his hands grasping for purchase anywhere he could find flesh, settling finally on her hips.

She drug her mouth away from his lips and along his cheek to his ear. Jesus, those ears. Her filthy mind had come up with at least a dozen things to do with those abundant auricles since she’d first spied them peeking out from beneath his dark curling locks. She reflected on the moment she’d first seen Adam in all his glory when she had entered the alley. Incredibly tall, he stood in a strange position, awkwardly hunched, as if he were trying to make himself look smaller. Nervous, but so obviously trying to play it cool that it was almost comical, his chestnut eyes never stilled as they scanned to and fro for what? Trouble? But was it trouble to stay out of, or trouble to get into that he was watching for? It seemed to Ana they had both managed to find themselves in a bit of trouble as she sat perched atop him on her sofa. And she was having a very difficult time not making it worse.

“I proved you wrong.” she said, grasping his earlobe between her teeth. He drew in a sharp breath between clenched teeth. “Ready for me to prove you right?”

With no warning, he gripped her hips and pulled her further against him. He arched slightly with his own hips, which placed his now fully erect cock, clearly evident beneath the fabric of his pants, directly under her pussy. Fearless and fiesty, she rolled her hips and rubbed her mound against him which provided just enough pressure on her clit to make her moan.

He leaned into her, ravaging her mouth with his own, their tongues dancing, breaths already quick and shallow. His hand grabbed her face, firmly but not violently. Large. long fingers cupped around her chin. She tried to tell herself she didn’t like this brazen show of dominance, but the walls of her pussy betrayed her, clenching as she felt his fingers and thumb gently squeeze the flesh of her cheeks. Her fingers, already tangled in the back of his thick hair tightened as he pushed her body sideways, attempting to lay her back on the sofa. She resisted, pushing back against him, and he broke their kiss to stare at her with dark eyes. He searched Ana’s face for approval or guidance as her breath caught in her chest.

She slid off his lap to stand on the floor in front of him. As she backed away slowly, she looked him dead in those dark eyes, and a sly grin began to form on her lips.

“If you can catch me, you can have me.” she said, so low it was just a raspy whisper.

Adam furrowed his brow at her first, eyes narrowed as his brain tried to grasp the meaning behind her words. But the second her invitation registered, his eyes widened slightly, pupils blown, giving him an almost predatory appearance. He leaned forward slightly, and Ana jumped back, already prepared to run as soon as he moved. Adam chuffed under his breath, and sat back and shook his head, relaxing against the back of the sofa. Disappointed at his disinterest, Ana placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. She had been so sure he was going to fall for…

With lightning speed, Adam lurched forward and rose from the sofa, attempting to grab Ana. She squealed in surprise, managing to side-step him before his hands could make contact with her body, then ducked under his outstretched arms as he attempted to navigate around the coffee table. And with that, the chase was on.

Having never been in her apartment before, Adam was at a massive disadvantage as he stumbled around in unfamiliar territory. As Ana rounded the corner to the hallway, she slapped the light switch on the wall, throwing the apartment into complete darkness. The room became totally silent as Adam stopped dead in his tracks, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, while simultaneously planning his next move.

“Playing dirty, huh?” he called to the blackness as he inched forward. He was listening for any indication of where she might have gone, but save for the faint sound of a dog barking somewhere in the building, he heard nothing. “Why am I not surprised?”

He kicked himself mentally for not taking a visual survey of the flat when they’d entered, but why would he have? He certainly never expected this. Struck with an idea, he took his phone out of his pocket and turned on the tiny flashlight that was built into it. It’s LED bulb cast a faint glow that threw odd shadows onto the walls around him. It wasn’t enough to find her with, but at least he wouldn’t run into the furniture as he searched.

Size was another advantage Ana had, being over a foot shorter than him, and small enough to hide anywhere she wanted. She was also barefoot, so she could more easily cover her footfalls. She took advantage of this as she crept, stepping over the floorboards she knew to be creaky (she had memorized them all in attempts to not wake her roommate when coming in during the wee hours of the morning.)

Trying to breathe as quietly and as shallow as possible, she moved along the walls, hiding in plain sight, avoiding the small light of his cell phone. He turned abruptly and nearly caught sight of her, but she had ducked behind the bathroom door just in time. She took a safety pin off the bathroom counter and hurled it past him, it’s small metal body clinking on the floor somewhere in front of him. He started off in that direction and she smiled. Sucker.

She turned the corner and tiptoed towards the kitchen. There was a sliding panel beneath the breakfast bar separating the kitchen and the living room, and if she could open it quietly enough, she could…

“Tell me again what I win?” His voice was right against her ear, his strong arms holding her own down tightly to her sides. She had not heard him come up behind her, nearly giving her a heart attack when he grabbed her. . He held the safety pin into her line of sight. “Nice try with the diversion by the way. Dont you know you can’t snow a snowman, kid?”

She thought about struggling, but why? He had caught her fair and square. And she knew just as well as he did that the point of this game of hide-and-seek was most definitely to be found. She relaxed against his body, her heart still pounding with adrenaline, and in turn, he relaxed his grip on her arms. She faced him and he bent in to kiss her, moving her back with his body until her shoulders collided with the wall behind her. Gasping as the breath was knocked from her lungs, he grasped her under her ass and jerked her upwards.

He lifted her to his eye level and kissed her hard, lips pinched against teeth, his tongue invading ferociously. She moaned into his mouth and reached down between their bodies, pulling greedily at his shirt, fingers desperate to feel his warm naked skin beneath them. He took that curious hand in his, however and pinned it above her head and then, holding her up against the wall with nothing but the pressure of his body. Then, he did the same with the other. He was able to grasp both of her wrists in one huge hand, and as he held her hard against the wall, unable to move, he spoke, his voice wavering with need.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you.” He demanded, and she laughed.

“That’s a long list.” She sassed, and he reached down and found her erect nipple through the thin fabric of her T-shirt. He rolled the hard pebble between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing. She cried out and pulled him closer to her with her legs, the ache between them fueling her desperation.

“Start at the top then.” He suggested, starting to lose patience. He needed to bury his cock in her soon or he was afraid he might lose control, or maybe even lose his mind

“I want you to…” she started, but she was so breathless, her words were coming out in pants. He jutted his hips forward, the rock-hard ridge of his cock, now straining to be released from his pants, ground against her mound. She whimpered. She needed him to bury his cock in her soon, else she was afraid her sanity might be in jeopardy. “Anything!” she cried, her lips so close to his that flesh brushed against flesh. “Everything! Please, Adam!” Her voice was high and pleading. She could tell that he liked that.

“Was that a please I heard?” he inquired, leaning the weight of his body into her a bit more, tightening his fingers against her wrists. She nodded her head fast, her hair falling into her eyes. He pushed it back with his free hand and once again cupped her face with huge, strong fingers. “Say it again.” he kissed her, nipping on her lips with his teeth. “Beg me.”

“Please!” she did not hesitate even for a split second. “Please, please, please, please…” her words trailed off as she begged, repeating it over and over again in earnest. He released her wrists from his grip then, but issued a warning.

“Keep them where they are, understand?” he instruction, and stepped back, lowering her back to her feet.

He slid his hands around her waist and down her back and she shivered, goosebumps rising along the surface of her skin. She felt his fingers slip beneath the waistband of her pajama shorts, and she hummed her approval as he slid them down, dropping them to the floor once they were past her thighs. He went to his knees in front of her then, his massive hands gripping her hips, pulling her towards him. He placed wet open kisses on the flesh of her stomach, delighting in her exclamations as he peppered those kisses with gentle bites. The little lace thong she had worn beneath her dress that night was all that separated her sex from his face now, and if she could have shimmied out of them on her own, she would have. But again, she was at his mercy.

“Are you particularly attached to these?” he asked, looking up at her face as he popped the elastic of the thong against her hip. She shook her head, confused as to why he would…

With one violent motion he twisted the thin straps of the thong and tore it free from her body. She shrieked as the fabric bit into her flesh, but before she could protest, the tiny panties had already been thrown to the floor.

He pushed her legs further apart and ran his right hand up the inside of her thigh as he surveyed her, her naked flesh singing from his touch. When he reached her sex, he ran his thumb up the length of her slit, then dipped inside. Her knees nearly buckled beneath her, but he pushed her firmly back into place with one massive hand splayed out against her stomach.

“Fuck, kid, you’re so wet already.” he marveled, and all she could do was moan in response. His thumb circled once, twice, and then slid just underneath the base of her clit, applying pressure while simultaneously rocking back and forth, gently but firmly. He rose on his knees and ran his nose and lips along the curves of her breasts as he worked her clit, revelling in the smell of her skin -- sweet, like honeysuckle in the summer sun.

She felt two of his long fingers tease the opening of her pussy, and her mind reeled, overwhelmed with pleasure and anticipation. The moment he slid his fingers inside of her, he pulled one of her nipples into his warm mouth, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue as he sucked. Her hands dropped to his head, her fingers finding purchase in soft, thick locks.

He angled his fingers up, bending them forward slightly as he worked them inside her, his thumb still massaging her clit. She gasped, eyelids fluttering.

“Fuck!” she spat, fingers reflexively fisting in his hair.

“More?” he asked simply, and she moaned her response, nodding furiously.

He had her over his shoulder before she could even guess what was happening, her arms and legs dangling. He turned to carry her to the back of the apartment but stopped, unsure as to the direction of her bedroom. Sensing his question, she pointed down the hall, and he headed in that direction, smacking her hard on her bare ass as an afterthought. She squealed and squirmed on his shoulder, but his arm around her legs held her tight.

“That’s for moving your fucking hands when I told you not to.” he reported, and she grinned. So he had noticed. She made a mental note.

He tossed her to the bed with such force she bounced twice on the mattress, her hair flying into her face. She blew it out of the way just in time to see him stripping his clothes off, his broad chest heaving with heavy breaths She watched in awe in the pale yellow light of her bedside lamp, lips parted, as he slowly unbuttoned his pants. His eyes as dark as pitch in the low light, he stared at her, and she detected the slightest of grins pulling at the corners of his mouth. He was enjoying this! He was enjoying watching her suffer as he pulled his zipper down so slowly it was nearly comical. Maybe it would have been, if she could remember how to laugh, or even breathe.

His pants undone, he slid them down, taking his briefs with them at the same time. Ana had promised herself early on that she would feign indifference when she saw his cock, wanting to neither embarrass him nor boost his ego depending on the circumstances. That, however, had been before she actually saw it. When it bounced free of his briefs, her eyes involuntarily widened in near disbelief. Long, and thick (just like the rest of him, she later considered), it stood straight and rock-hard, the head bobbing against the flesh of his stomach.

Ana slid to the edge of the bed and onto the floor, resting on her knees in front of him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, perplexed.

Instead of answering, she took his shaft in her hand and ran her tongue up the length of it, then circled it around the head. She heard him draw in a sharp breath as she continued to tease him with her tongue, using her hand to stroke him with gentle pressure.

“Fuck.” he exclaimed. “You like that? You wanna suck that big cock?”

Ana nodded, and he took his dick in one hand, placing his other on the back of her head.

“Open your mouth.” he instructed, and when she did, he guided her onto his cock. She closed her eyes and took him as far into her mouth as she could. He was so thick, so long, she wished she could take more, but it was too much.

“Open your fucking eyes.” he demanded. “Look at me when you’re sucking my cock.”

She did as he said, big brown eyes turned upwards, locking with his as she stroked him with her mouth.

“Shit, that’s good.” he hissed. He kept his hand on her head and began to jerk his hips towards her, pumping his cock into her mouth. “You like that? You like it when I fuck your pretty little mouth?”

She did like it. She liked his dominance, his dirty talk, and the feeling of his massive cock hitting the back of her throat. She fucking loved it, and she hummed her response.

Without warning, he pulled her off of his cock and turned away from her, raising his hands to lace his fingers behind his head.

“Fuck!” he yelled angrily at no one, and Ana leaned back onto her heels as she watched him, utterly confused.

“What… what is it?” she asked. “What did I do?”

She saw him shake his head, but he didn’t speak. He walked to the bedroom window and peered down to the street below.

“You’re too good for this shit.” he said finally. “I don’t wanna’ do that to you — treat you like that. You’re better than that.”

Ana rose from the floor and went to stand beside him, resting her back against the cool window sill.

“What, Adam?” she asked, sensing he was dwelling on something much deeper. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed, but wouldn’t look at her.

“I don’t want to fuck this up.” he said after a marked silence. “I always fuck these things up with my bullshit. I told myself when you asked me to come inside that I wasn’t going to do this -- that it would be different this time. But what do I do the second I get my hands on you?” he shook his head in disgust. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” She assures him. “And just so you know,” she added, her voice soft. “I was enjoying it.”

He glanced at her briefly, but she couldn’t read his expression. He turned back to the window.

“Don’t you think I would have stopped you if I didn't like it? If I didn’t want to? I would have told you no, Adam. I’m not some weak little creature incapable of speaking up or defending myself.”

“I know.” he replied. “That’s one of the reasons I like you so much. Why you deserve better than this. Than me.”

“Don’t say that.” she told him as she nudged him with her elbow.

“I’m just so sick of it.” he told her. His voice sounded distant and tired. “It never works out for me -- relationship shit. For years I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t me. It wasn’t my fault… unless you can blame me for choosing the wrong women. And trust me, I was a fucking professional at that. But when I look back on it all, maybe… maybe it really was my fault. At least some of it. I’m hard to deal with. I’m an addict. I’m loud and obnoxious, and…”

“And funny and smart and talented too, from what you’ve told me.” Ana interrupted. “Stop selling yourself short, Adam. We’ve all fucked up relationships. I’ve played a big part in some spectacular relationship failures. So what? It’s not like there’s a fucking instruction manual, and even if there were, the rules are constantly changing. Just being with someone shouldn’t be so hard, but it really is, because we have to rely on someone else not to hurt us while trying to do the same. We have to make compromises and sacrifices and make adjustments to our shitty attitudes and changes in our bad behavior for the sake of someone else. But I figure, when we find the person we’re supposed to be with, we’ll do all of that because we want to, not because we have to.” She paused. She felt as if she were rambling. She looked up at him and saw he was staring at her again, but there was a softness to his expression. “You’re not a bad person, Adam. You’re weird as fuck, and you can be a sarcastic asshole, but you’re not bad.”

“You’re ahead of the game. Girls don’t usually call me an asshole until the second date.” he joked and she gave him a smile.

“I’m gonna go.” he said then, and her heart sank.

“You don’t have to.” she told him, watching as he turned to gather his clothes.

“I know.” he replied, slipping on his jeans. “I need to though.”

The were both silent for a moment. Her disappointment was deeper than it should have been. This night had not gone the way she had planned. She had resolved herself to the fact that her night with him might just be a one-time hook-up, but even that hadn’t come to fruition. And the worst part? She really liked this guy. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she did.

“I’m sorry, ok?” he apologized. He was already at the door, and she was just now slipping in to her shorts. “You’re really cool, kid.”

Ana had a moment of clarity. He was running. Not from her, but from himself. This idea of change was too daunting for him. He’d already stopped drinking, probably the hardest thing he’d ever done so far in his life. Facing this -- whatever it was -- and having to define it and accept it and fix it (if it even needed fixing) was too much for him to handle. Worse yet for him was the possibility that he’d forever stay the same. She couldn’t help him with this. She barely knew him, even though she wanted to know everything about him. The only choice she had was to let him go and hope he’d remember her whenever the dragons that plagued him were slain.

He put one hand on the door knob and hesitated, his jaw tense, lips working as if he were fighting to either say something, or keep something from coming out. Eventually he made his decision and turned the knob and opened the door. And just like that, he was gone.

She watched him walk down the street from the same window he had looked out of earlier. Her eyes welled up with tears. They hadn’t even traded numbers.

————-

Spring finally decided to rear its colorful head in the days that passed. Ana dove back into her daily routine - work, school, friends and extracurricular activities.

She thought of Adam but tried not to dwell on him, else she feared she might do something stupid (like try to find him). She didn’t understand how she could miss someone she’d only known for a few hours. Yet every time she walked up to her apartment, she wished he would be there, waiting at her door.

One evening, after a particularly difficult day, Ana was looking forward to the bottle of rosé and the margherita pizza in her shopping bag. She was trying to decide between catching up on new episodes of her shows on Hulu or binging one of her old favorites when she saw it.

Propped against her door was an envelope with her name scrawled across the front. When she opened it, she pulled out a handwritten note.

Ana,

I wanted you to have this. I wouldn’t have gotten it without you.

If you believe in second chances, call me. 555-731-9460.

Adam

Something else was in the envelope, so she tipped it, and the contents fell into her hand.

It was a 15-year sobriety token.

She smiled and gripped it tightly in her hand as she opened the door and entered her apartment. Once her grocery bag was on the counter, she fished her phone from her purse.

She pulled up her messenger app and entered Adam’s number, then composed a text.

_Second chance?_   
_As I recall, we never_   
_completed the first._   
_I have wine and pizza._   
_Can you come over?_

It was only a matter of seconds before the little dots animated on her screen to indicate he was typing a reply. In a moment, his reply popped onto her screen.

_That’s 30 minutes away._   
_I’ll be there in 10._

She laughed knowingly at the clever reference, and popped the cork on the bottle of wine. But this time, she took two glasses from her cabinet instead of just one.


End file.
